Joke: Dead Duck

While I’ve always—and I do mean always—been a “class clown,” I’ve never been much of a joke teller. Mostly because I have trouble remembering them. I don’t mean the punch line. If I can remember the joke, I can remember the punchline. It’s generally the entire joke I can’t remember!

Which is somewhat odd considering all the joke books I read in my younger days and all the comedians I’ve enjoyed in my older days (RIP George; you were the greatest of them all).

The mind being the associative wonder that it is, sometimes some part of a conversation triggers an association, and that surfaces a joke from my mental archives (think Damian Lewis’ memory library from Dreamcatcher).

And sometimes when a new joke I’ve really liked is fresh in my mind, I go around telling it to everyone. Which takes some doing, liking a joke that much. As I said, I’ve been reading joke books and following comedians a very long time, so it takes something a bit special to impress me. Most new jokes are just variations of old jokes.

But I heard one recently that cracked me up… and managed to be a truly new joke. Maybe it’ll have the same effect on you. Plus, it’s Friday and time to start goofing off. So without further ado, I give you…

The One About the Dead Duck

A very distraught woman brings her limp and lifeless duck to the vet. The duck’s not breathing and doesn’t react to any attempts to stir it. It certainly appears to be, in fact, a dead duck. (And, no, this is not a re-take on the old Monty Python Parrot sketch; I wouldn’t do that to you.)

After a careful examination the vet tells the woman, “I’m very sorry, but your duck is dead.”

“Are you absolutely sure,” protests the unhappy woman? “Are you sure he’s not in a coma or something?”

“I’m quite sure, madam, that your duck is dead,” answers the vet.

“But maybe there’s something you haven’t found. Maybe he’s hibernating or something. Isn’t there anything you can do to be completely sure,” begs the woman.

“Very well,” says the vet, and he leaves the room, only to return moments later with a black Labrador Retriever dog. The dog puts its front paws up on the examination table and sniffs the duck for a while. Finally he looks up at the vet with a mournful face, shakes his head silently and walks out of the room.

The vet then leaves the room again, but this time he returns holding a Calico cat in his arms. He puts the cat on the exam table, and the cat carefully inspects the duck from head to tail. Finally the cat looks up at the vet, shakes it head, leaps down from the table and leaves the room.

“Well, madam, that settles the matter. Your duck is definitely dead, no question about it,” says the vet.

The woman is, of course, heart-broken, but she finally accepts the vet’s word that her duck is dead. The vet then turns to his computer, punches a few keys and prints a bill, which he, as gently as possible, hands to the miserable woman.

When the woman looks at the bill, she gasps and exclaims, “This is for 820 dollars! That’s an awful lot of money just to tell me that my duck is dead!”

The vet replies, “Yes, I’m sorry about the cost. If you had taken my word originally that your duck was dead, it would have only been 20 dollars.”

I’m not entirely sure Eric Clapton is the greatest guitar player who ever lived (I can name at least six who can give him a run for the money). I am sure Carlin was the greatest comedian! There’s just no one in his class. I do kinda miss the hippie, dippie weatherman sometimes (well, now I just miss Carlin, period). Carlin went through a very angry phase in the 90s (low part of his career for me), and that anger never really left him. I think the death of his wife was part of it. I also think someone that intelligent just looks around the world and goes, “W.T.F?” I think it’s hard not to be angry if you’re intelligent and perceptive.

As far as picking favorites for things, like music, movies, books and so on, that’s the easy part. Most of my lists have hundreds of favorites on them. Now picking the best (even in my own humble opinion) is a totally different story. That list is much, much smaller, but I still refuse to pick just one, lol. It’s that whole I don’t like limits and restrictions thing. 😉

Clapton, on my bests list, as is Carlin. I would have to agree with you that his later stuff, although he still had a number of great things to say, went down hill. It became preachy and pushy. Part of the appeal, I think, to Carlin was he could make you think about serious things by making you laugh at them first. He lost that in my mind in his later years.

If you read much of my writing you’ll find I’m the same way. Easy to identify the things I love (and that list is huge, ’cause I have pretty broad tastes (I always want to quip that I have broad taste in broads, but people get all caught up in “oh, no you didn’t” so it’s best to restrain myself.)).

Usually the best I can do is “Top Five” (and just five is often pushing it). I’m on firmer ground with “Top 10” or “Top 25” lists! (My iTunes “Favorites” playlist? 333 tunes! Just over 24 hours of continuous listening.) How do you pick a favorite between, say, Clapton and George Winston? So different that it’s hard to compare.

Carlin’s last decade was pretty awesome, less for the material, which did decline a bit and become more curmudgeon-y (“Get off my planet you crazy kids!!!”). But he remained one of the hardest working comedians ever (he performed most days of the year), and what blows me away about Carlin is those long, fast rants with lots of words to get exactly right… and he does it from memory! Amazing man.